Utter Confusion
by Partner
Summary: [Repost] Ichigo is just full of surprises.
1. Prologue

Here we are! Gosh, it's been so long. Seven whole years. When I found my old account, I realized that I still knew exactly where I wanted to take this story and reading the old reviews made me want to at least bring this to a conclusion. So, for old readers, welcome back! For new readers, enjoy the ride.

Content: rape, psychological trauma - for all chapters.

* * *

"Hey, bitch, you're really bad at this." Nnoitra snorted. His comment was supported by a snickering Fraccion next to him.

Grimmjow lurched forward, his forehead connecting with the Fraccion's. The lower Arrancar was sent flying across the room and smashed into the wall. The loud sickening crack of the Fraccion's skull sent blood and brains out on the stainless white wall.

There was a moment of silence among the circle of Arrancar. Grimmjow sat back down, growling. Nnoitra was the first to speak, with a muffled laugh.

"Fuck, man, sore loser!"

The coarse sentence broke the silence and the other Arrancars joined in on the merriment; Much to Grimmjow's displeasure.

"Only Jaggerjack could send someone flying with a head butt."

"Fuck all, is he dead?"

"Naw, he's just napping!"

Ulquiorra only watched from a distance. He wasn't too interested in playing the barbaric card game. He had given it a try, but soon found out the reason for the unusually large amounts of fights during the game. The rules fluctuated on a daily basis, making it extremely hard to tell if someone were cheating or not. Either way, someone came out of the game dead or injured. More often than not, it was both.

But that was alright. It was only out of pure curiosity that Ulquiorra had tried to play with them. And perhaps also out of the need to connect with his comrades. At least that's what Ichimaru had said.

However, something else had caught his curiosity, recently. It was something that he and Ichimaru both seemed to enjoy doing. Almost like clockwork, the two would meet each other in one of Las Noches' hallways and with one stoic stare from Ulquiorra and a sly smile from Ichimaru, they would soundless walk side by side to their destination.

Arriving in front of the plain white door, Ulquiorra took the intiative to open the door. Annoying or not, Ichimaru was still his superior, it would be rude for the Espada not to open the door for him. Stepping into the room, Ichimaru's head immediately turned to the left. Ulquiorra's eyes followed his, shortly.

"Aaah, look's like lil' Ichi's sleepin'!" Ichimaru resisted against the urge to making cooing sounds.

Looking over Ichimaru's shoulder, Ulquiorra saw the orange-haired Shingami that he visited so frequently. Sitting down against the wall, Ichigo was fast asleep, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. His sleep seemed a little bit more sound than it did yesterday. Ulquiorra was slightly surprised over the fact that Ichigo didn't jump up when the door was opened.

The skin that showed from Ichigo's robe told all. While his face remained unmarred, the same couldn't be said for his body. The hands resting lazily on the floor were covering in small scars. Little cuts here and there that never healed properly for one reason or the other. A couple of fingernails were notable as well. A few of them grew back irregularly, and Ulquiorra vaguely wondered what made them do that. ___Probably Ichimaru._

The V-neck of the robe showed the scarred chest. Scars of various shapes were painted all over him. Some were thin lines, indicating a sharp weapon. Others were jagged lines, perhaps fingernails? While other's looking like holes, and Ulquiorra knew they were Ichimaru's old work. Then there were the areas of broken blood vessels—___No__, _he is not going to call them by that stupid name-and a few bruises. But none of them were just flesh wounds. None of them were a minor injury. Everything on him was as severe as severe could be. Bruises that were such dark shades of purple, others would wince and feel pain just looking at it, scars that were red and angry from mistreatment and bite marks deep enough to make one wonder what kind of creature could manage that much strength.

Ichimaru looked at Ulquiorra, snickering to himself. The stoic Espada always did this. Something about looking at the former arrogant, over-confidant Shinigami all covered in wounds and looking just goddamn pitiful enchanted it. It was about a week ago when the Espada first began joining Ichimaru on his trips to check up on Ichigo. They were almost like children, checking up on their mother after a horrendous fight with their father. Or perhaps they were curious fans, wanted to catch a glimpse of the artwork their favorite artist was creating.

"Well, let's let lil' Ichi sleep, yea? Ah know he looks so cute but we gots ta let him sleep!"

Ulquiorra was ready to turn and leave when a mumble caught his attention. Both him and Ichimaru stood still as they watched the Shinigami stir back to life. Ichigo mumbled sleepily to himself, and stood up, shakily.

Neither Ulquiorra nor Ichimaru could hold back the expression of shock from their faces when Ichigo spoke, in an almost carefree tone.

"Mornin'. Aizen gonna come back to fuck me up or what?"


	2. Hate

"Holy fucking shit."

"That's, easily, the most creepy fuckin' thing I've seen in my life."

A small crowd of Arrancar watched the scene before them with the attention of a voyeur. Most of them were lower leveled Arrancar, but behind them were Nnoitra, Grimmjow, and Ulquiorra. This moment was one exception where Grimmjow could stand being next to the other two and not swearing or beating the shit out of them. Or both. Both is better.

"Eeeh, you're all retards." Nnoitra scowled. The lower Arrancars turned their heads to face him. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra kept their eyesight ahead.

"It's not like you fuckers haven't seen Aizen-sama having tea before." Nnoitra scoffed.

"Not with Orange Head!" One Arrancar responded loudly, pointing in the direction they were all previously facing.

It was a once in a lifetime sight. Aizen and Ichigo sitting in one of the large white dining rooms, sipping tea and exchanging small talk. And such an innocent act horrified the Arrancars. They were used to hearing Ichigo's pained howls or sobs. But for him to be so relaxed in Aizen's presence was something completely alien to them.

* * *

"I will admit, Ichigo, you are just full of surprises." Aizen blew gently on the freshly poured cup of tea. Ichigo watched the man with a serene smile.

"You flatter me. Really, don't let my ego get any bigger now." Ichigo had finished his cup of tea long ago. He was satisfied with looking into the empty cup and the sludgy brown stuff sticking to insides of the cup. Ichigo vaguely remembered the girls in his school telling fortunes this way.

"So. What is your resolve?""Hmm?" Ichigo snapped out of his daydream and looked up at Aizen. The older man had gently pushed aside his tea cup and rested his elbows on the table, fingers entwined. Ichigo smiled and leaned back into his chair.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to tell the difference."

Aizen raised an eyebrow.

Ichigo continued, "At least that's how I think the quote goes. But that's the idea. The way it is now, I'm in the worst possible situation I could ever be in. I can't remember yesterday, how can I expect to remember what I know about the war situation?"

"You can trust what you've heard from the Arrancar." Aizen replied, mimicking Ichigo's pose. He liked where this was going.

"I can't trust that either. What memories are real? What are fake, fabricated by you? I can only trust right now. And right now, I'm completely helpless. I'll be tortured and humiliated by you in the worst possible ways at any given moment. So…"

"So what are the things you can change?" Ichigo looked back to his empty tea cup. The things I can change…

"How I spend my time here."Aizen felt a little disappointed by the bland answer. But something about the way Ichigo hesitated latched onto him. Something about the way that tufts of his spiky orange hair covering his eyes made Aizen all the more interested. Before he could speak, Ichigo continued.

"I can spent my time in that room, wallowing in anguish and poorly licking my wounds…" Ichigo sat up straight and looked up at Aizen. The older man felt a small shiver go down his spine at that smile.

"Or I can be sitting here. Enjoying some tea. Having a nice chat. Stretch my legs. Get some fresh air."

Aizen couldn't contain the grin spreading on his face. This boy…when did he become so addicting?

"I wouldn't mind having some fights with Grimmjow again, too. My muscles aren't what they used to be." Ichigo chuckled, feeling a little unnerved by Aizen's grin.

"Perhaps I can let you borrow a sword."

Ichigo smiled. "Perhaps."

* * *

"They're still talking! They're still talking!" One lower Arrancar fidgeted nervously. Grimmjow and Nnoitra both proceeded to kick the Arrancar and then glare at each other.

"He was mine to kick, bitch." The edge of Grimmjow's mouth twitched.

"Neh? Fuck you! I'm a higher rank, I'll kick your ass!" Nnoitra stuck out his long tongue and Grimmjow recoiled in disgust. That thing never ceases to make the blue haired Espada's stomach churn.

Ulquiorra ignored the strained whispers of the lower Arrancars and the increasing volume of Grimmjow and Nnoitra's fight. He was set on watching Aizen and Ichigo. Watching their lips, trying to put words to the movements.

"Lil Ichi is sure interestin' this time, ain't he?" Ichimaru leaned his head against Ulquiorra's shoulder, pushing his weight into the smaller Espada, purposely making the two stand in a tilted way. Ulquiorra dug his nails into his palm.

"Heeyyyyy, I said 'ain't he?'" Ichimaru pouted, nudging Ulquiorra's chin with his head.

"Who is watching the woman?"

"Eh? So lame, Ulquiorra. Some little guy. It's fineee!" Ichimaru took his head off of Ulquiorra's shoulder and walked away, towards the tea-sipping couple.

"…Where…Where are you going?" Ulquiorra stood up straight, out of his previous tilted stance.

"I'mma hav' some tea with lil Ichi and Aizen!" Ichimaru threw his hand up in a wave, and Ulquiorra ignored the bit of jealously and curiosity that arose within him. He wanted to hear what they were talking about, and he didn't have the ability to just walk in as Ichimaru did.

Watching Ichimaru give a most likely energetic greeting to Ichigo and Aizen, Ulquiorra turned his back on the scene. He supposed he could go watch the woman.

A short while ago, Orihime became rather withdrawn. Ulquiorra accredited that to the combination of knowing Ichigo's fate and the abuse from Ichimaru. However, recently, things had become a bit different. Ichimaru had completely ceased his abuse when he saw Orihime getting a smile out of Ulquiorra. It was far more amusing for him to tease Ulquiorra about it, anyway.

The corners of Ulquiorra's mouth twitched downward for a split second. He really hated that man and silently prayed that Ichigo would be interesting enough to distract Ichimaru from teasing the Espada.

But Ulquiorra had nothing to worry about.

Ichigo always was interesting enough.

* * *

"Heeyyyy, there lil Ichi!" Ichimaru waved energetically. Aizen chuckled lightly at Ichigo's cringe. Looks like he didn't like that nickname either.

"Uhh…I-Ichigo is just fine…uhh.." Ichigo wrinkled his nose, wracking his brain for the answer.

"Gin. Call me Gin, Ichigo!" Ichimaru was just a fountain of energy. Patting his hand on Ichigo's shoulder, the slim man took a seat next to the Shinigami.

Ichigo felt something in him scream in fear from close contact with this man. In the same way it screamed at him whenever Aizen smiled. ___I see. This is real. This man hurt me__._ Ichigo put on a smile, hiding the fear and anger boiling up in him.

"Gin, would you like some tea?" Aizen gestured at the teapot. Ichimaru shook his head.

"Nah, ah don't like tha' stuff very much."

"And here you've been drinking it this whole time and never told me how you hated it?" Aizen feigned a hurt tone and Ichigo laughed. "I thought we were better friends than that, Gin."

"Aaaah! Don't take it like tha', Sousuke! Ah'd tell ya anything!" Ichimaru played along and pouted.

The three continued their little tea time, jumping through conversation topics. Although, really, it was more of Ichigo and Ichimaru talking and Aizen popping in with a few comments, most likely to correct some insane fact that Ichimaru had concocted.

Somewhere between discussing the meaning of humanity and the structure of chairs if a human's knees bent the other way, Aizen realized something. Or rather, was curious about something. There was something he wanted to know. Something that he expected from Ichigo but with this new Ichigo…it made him wonder…

"Ichigo, what are your feelings towards me?"

The silence that fell was unbearable.

"Aaah, wha's this, Sousuke? Ya crushin' on lil Ichi?" Ichimaru looked to Ichigo, expecting him to wear a blush the same color as his hair.

Instead, he was greeted with the serene smile that Ichigo seemed to be so fond of recently. Ichimaru's smile dropped.

"I hate you. I really do."

Aizen only smiled.


	3. Remember

Aizen was in a conundrum. He wasn't sure who he liked more: willing Ichigo or unwilling Ichigo. Admittedly, he had only experienced unwilling Ichigo. But he had to say, willing Ichigo wasn't too far from winning the contest.

Ichigo and Ichimaru spent a good two hours talking before Aizen flashed his leuitinent a look that was caught by Ichigo as well. Ichimaru quickly dismissed himself, and Ichigo took one last look at his empty teacup. He silently wished that he knew how to read his fortune and then followed Aizen, who was already halfway out the dining room.

And that brings them to now. As soon as both Ichigo and Aizen stepped into the latter man's room, Aizen began his assault on the younger man. As he had guessed, after the first few forced bites on the neck, Ichigo began responding.

His response was nothing more than a few groans that sounded oddly muffled. Having already bitten a bloody trail down Ichigo's chest, Aizen looked up to see that the other man had been biting his hand hard enough to draw blood. Out of pleasure, or out of pain, Aizen didn't care.

Yanking the younger man down to the floor, Aizen crawled over him, licking the few droplets of blood off of his lips. Ichigo removed his hand from his mouth, panting heavily. This is familiar too. So this is real, too. The inability to distinguish sweat and blood, the lusty look in Aizen's eyes, and the unusually 'gentle' touches. ___This is real. The pleasure and pain. Don't get them mixed up. Don't. Don't._

Ichigo was brought out of his thoughts with a heavy moan and a warm pressure on his cock. ___When did my pants come off?_

"Daydreaming on me? That's a bit of an insult." Aizen smirked.

Ichigo responded with a shaky laugh.

Aizen stood up, taking a seat up on the bed in front of him. Ichigo remained rather flustered on the floor, naked and aroused.

"Ah…" Ichigo began.

"It's your punishment." Aizen cut him off. He pointed down at his own pants, then towards Ichigo's erection. Somewhere in the back of Ichigo's mind, he questioned himself on how he understood what those simple hand signals meant. ___Guess that's real too._

Before he quite realized it himself, Ichigo found himself kneeling in front of Aizen, hands on the older man's hip and his mouth around Aizen's cock.

___Well. Shit. This is real too._Oh yes, the embarrassment and shame was there. It was evident from the angry blush on his face, but Ichigo couldn't feel it against the almost painful pleasure of his own erection. He couldn't help but notice that despite all his anger, he hadn't stopped. Ichigo was still hollowing out his cheeks, he was still licking up and down and occasionally panting.

His eyes wandered up at Aizen. Much to his surprise, the man still had the same expression. A smug smile and his arms crossed.

___What the fuck?! What is he, the man of steel?!_

The condescending stare sent chills of shame and anger down Ichigo's spine and the sense of familiarity boiling in his stomach.

Taking his mouth off of Aizen's cock with a resounding pop, Ichigo leaned back, licking his lips.

"Hey now. That's no fair either. At least I didn't do it on purpose."

Ichigo crossed his arms, copying Aizen's pose. He did his best to look smug, but it was a little difficult, taking into account the still bright blush on his face and Aizen's dick about a foot away from his face. Aizen suppressed a laugh. It looked just too funny.

"Who said you were in charge, Ichigo?"

And that sense of familiarity returned. It made Ichigo sweat.

"N-no fair, you were supposed to play along."

Catching the stutter, Aizen tilted his head and smiled. "I'm a bad actor."

"Really? Could of fooled me." The two shared a grin.

"Well, I'll tell you what Ichigo. You keep it up and I'll give you a gift at the end of it." Aizen stood up and gestured to the bed. Ichigo immediately laid face down on the bed.

"A gift? What is it?"

"Let's not spoil the surprise now." Aizen crawled over him.

And Aizen thrust in without a moment's notice. With a groan, Ichigo gripped the bed sheets, biting down on the pillow. He was a little surprised. He imagined it would hurt. A lot more. The pain he felt now was dulled. As if this had happened before, several times. But he was pretty sure he'd be sore afterwords, regardless.

As quickly as he entered him, Aizen began drawing himself in and out of Ichigo. He thought about muffling his moans and shouts in the pillow, but Aizen probably preferred him loud. If Ichigo turned his head to the side, he'd bet he'd see Aizen, still composed. Ichigo had yet to hear a single sound out of the man. Granted, his own moans of pleasure were probably drowning Aizen out.

"Ah-ah-haahh…" Ichigo's hips lifted up to meet Aizen's and Ichigo vaguely registered that the man was still clothed. ___Fucking made of steel._

Thrusting a few more times into Ichigo, Aizen came, soundlessly. Ichigo let out an angry noise at the man's temporary muteness. He imagined Aizen smiling to that. Lifting himself up on his elbows, Ichigo looked down at the sheets. Somewhere along the line, he came. That was definitely his cum on the sheets. Along with a patch of angry red skin on and around his dick from the friction.

___Damn…I couldn't feel it?_Ichigo turned around seeing Aizen pulling himself out of him and getting up off the bed. ___Or maybe…I just keep getting them mixed._

"So, do you want your gift now, Ichigo?""If you'd be so kind." Ichigo's word came out shaky. _Pain and pleasure are two different things. Keep them separate. Remember that._

This part seemed familiar. If Ichigo could trust his stomach and the sudden feeling of dread in the room.

"You've been putting me in a good mood. I must say, you never cease to amaze me, but I think you've outdone yourself this time." Aizen kept his back to the younger man.

"I do my best." Ichigo found strength in his legs, and stood up from the bed. His eyes wandered to his clothes on the floor.

"And your best is fascinating."

"Thank you." Ichigo took a step closer to his clothes, but froze when Aizen turned around to face him.

"So, as a gift, I'll let you brace yourself once."

Ichigo's face blanked out. He stood up straight, taking a few seconds to process the information. As he came to a realization, the serene smile returned.

"Oh Sousuke. You're too kind."

Ichigo's muscles tensed up as Aizen drew his fist back.

_Remember__._


	4. Childish

"Hey, horse."

The hollow turned around, one eyebrow raised, accenting the pissed off look.

"Eh? The fuck, king? Since when the fuck were you so ballsy?" The hollow leaned into his king's face, scowling.

If Ichigo was bothered by this close contact, he didn't show any signs of it. He simply wore a small smile, his hands tucked into his pockets, standing in a relaxed pose.

The hollow backed up, coming to a realization.

"Wait a sec. King…you're here? Does that mean you've gotten out of that fucker's place?" This was unexpected. A few days after Ichigo's capture, his king's presence in the inner world had completely disappeared. But the inner world hadn't stayed the same. For days on end, the hollow and Zangetsu were pounded on by heavy rain. Then it would end abruptly for a day, at the most, and begin again. It was horrifying.

But recently, the rain had stopped, but the feeling it made left behind a sense of foreboding. As if one were standing in the eye of the storm.

"No. I've just finally cleared my mind, is all. Well. Not really. Enough clarity to think of something."

The hollow cocked his head. "Oh? And what is that?"

"Nothing a horse like you should know." Ichigo smirked and the hollow felt his old king for a moment.

"Little shit. Then why are you here?" His black eyes narrowed.

"I need you to do something."

"Eh?"

"Those memories, the ones that you have been just conveniently hiding from me."

The hollow froze. He didn't think his king knew about that. Yes, he and Zangetsu had eventually found out what was happening to Ichigo. After all, they were one and the same. It had taken the two spirits some time, due to Aizen's constant illusions. Zangetsu grasped the concept of Aizen's illusions on Ichigo. They did not wipe the boy's mind, but rather just put the memories his torture in a tightly locked little box. And because of his increasingly weakened state, Zangetsu handed that tightly locked box to the hollow.

"W-what about them, king?" The hollow didn't think he'd be sweating.

"I need you to let me know them. But not now. You'll know when. I'm just letting you know."

The hollow flinched. "The fuck?! I give you those memories and you'll be a broken fucking mess! Nothing can bring you back from that!"

There it was again. The dense, thick feeling. The eye of the storm.

"That's exactly why I want you to do it." And then his king was gone.

* * *

Ichigo awoke to the feeling of dulled pain. The whiteness blinded him and he groaned, lifting his hand up to block his eyes. That too, was a mistake. Pain shot out through his arm, making him drop it right back down with a groan. He was pretty sure that the wet feeling near his arm was a wound reopening. Or maybe it was his or Aizen's cum. The thought of the semen seeping into the wounds make Ichigo want to vomit. Which he promptly did, managing to roll over and do it on the floor. Fantastic. Now it smells like vomit and blood. ___Fan-fucking-tastic._

Somehow, Ichigo managed to crawl his way out of bed. As he got out of bed, he slowly stood up, doing his best to ignore his protesting body. He certainly gets creative.

Stepping into the bathroom, Ichigo took a deep breath as he looked at himself in the mirror. Oh, he looked awful, indeed. He was ready to heave again just by the sight of it. Ichigo turned away from the mirror with a groan, putting a hand to his mouth. His other hand reached up to wipe across the mirror, leaving a smeared trail of hand-shaped blood stains.

From the few seconds he looked, Ichigo could surmise that he had a black eye and, obviously, several cuts and gashes of various shapes and sizes. Although, after he washed the blood off and bandaged the real bad wounds, his appearance would approve…Granted that he doesn't look like a mummy.

As the soothing water ran over his aching body, Ichigo lightly noted that his recent contact with his hollow seems to have reawakened a bit of a regenerative ability. Wounds that were far too newly caused had already begun to scab, and he could feel the swelling in his eye lessen.

Finishing the shower, the Shinigami surprised himself by instantly knowing where the bandages were kept. Luckily, there was a rather large amount. Bandaging the wounds, Ichigo carefully chose which to bandage and which to leave open. He left wounds that already had hard scabs open, while covering wounds that were still open and would be easily bothered by clothing.

"That's a nice limp you got there."

Ichigo turned around, eyebrows raised.

Standing there by the door was Grimmjow, holding a tray of food. The Espada had on his insane grin, as usual.

"My breakfast?" Ichigo straightened out his new pair of clothing, careful not to run his hands down any sensitive wounds.

"More like dinner."

"Damn. That late already?"

"Yeah. Surprised you didn't wake up earlier. The fox bastard and Ulquiorra dropped by a few hours ago." Grimmjow held the tray out to Ichigo.

"Oh?" Ichigo took the tray from Grimmjow, his hand twitched reflexively when the weight of the tray put a little bit too much pressure of a few sensitive cuts.

"It's like a hobby for those two. Fuckin' voyeurs."

"I must be real interesting when I sleep." Ichigo sat down on the bed, putting the tray in his lap. The food wasn't one uniform style, but rather several different kinds. Ichigo counted six different cultures on his tray, and smiled at the diversity.

"They're just gauging to see how much this 'you' can take."

Ichigo, mouth full, looked up at Grimmjow. Meeting the Spade's amused gaze, Ichigo looked back down to his food and swallowed.

"Sounds like they've got nothing else to do. What's up with the war?"

Ichigo regretted that question where he was answered by an even wider toothy grin. He held his hand up.

"Wait. Forget it. Don't answer that. At least not yet."

Grimmjow shrugged, his grin lessened. "Suit yourself."

The Espada watched Ichigo eat in complete silence. After a while, it became extremely uncomfortable for Ichigo, and that goddamn Espada noticed and chose to make the situation worse. So now Ichigo had to attempt to eat in complete silence, with a crazy man staring holes into the back of his head and grinning like a maniac. Ichigo could of sworn that his gulps echoed in the room.

"S-so. Where's Aizen?"

"Eh? That bastard? Shit if I know."

"You weren't sent here to watch me?"

"I was sent here to send you some food, so you don't fuckin' starve."Ichigo put the partially empty tray again, looking down on the floor. Smiling, he hopped to his feet and turned to Grimmjow.

"Well, no point in sticking around here. Mind letting me out?"

And that's how he ended up here. Sitting in Aizen's throne room, looking around at the massively empty room. Grimmjow had left seeing as he didn't want to see 'a boring ass faggoty room'. Or something like that.

Ichigo looked up to the throne, and wondered the usefulness of such a tall throne.

_Well, I guess it creates the right atmosphere._

Wrinkling his nose, Ichigo tilted his head, noticing a small spot behind the throne. Right where one would rest his back, was a bit of space.

Making his way to the throne, Ichigo sat down in the small space and felt a surge of childhood delight. This was probably the only spot that wasn't viewable from the throne. And it made him feel giddy.

Ichigo felt himself beginning to nod off, and looked up abruptly every time his head drooped a little. Looking back out towards the throne room and seeing no one there, Ichigo felt a little bit more lax and allowed himself to fall asleep. Although, he was pretty sure there were a few wounds that would have a problem with it and complain about it when he woke up.

* * *

Aizen wasn't sure how to deal with this. He wasn't at all surprised Ichigo had left his room. It's not like he had went out of his way to keep the younger man in the room, anyway. What he didn't expect was to find him sleeping behind his throne.

He looked so incredibly childish, sleeping there. Aizen couldn't help but smile at the feeling it evoked in him. It was…_cute_. Even that little bit of drool. But it was only a little cute.


	5. Anything

Ichigo awoke to the pleasant feel of grass underneath him. He murmured, not interested in waking up anything soon. This feeling was just too nice. The grass, the occasional gentle blow of wind, the sun…._Wait, what?_

Sitting up abruptly, Ichigo looked around his frantically. For some reason, trying to remember if there was anything odd in his food and analyzing his surroundings proved to be rather difficult.

Here he was, sitting in a grass field that seemed to go on forever and ever. There was no white sand in sight. Looking up in the sky, he was greeted by a shining sun and a blue sky speckled with clouds, and not the moons he was used to seeing.

But there was something bothering Ichigo. Something about this field made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He laughed a bit at himself, realizing the problem. There was no noise. Complete and utter silence. No faint chirping of birds. Nothing. This was far too quiet to be real. Quiet like Las Noches.

As he guessed, the moment Ichigo looked behind him, he was staring into the amused gaze of Sousuke Aizen.

"This is a pretty good illusion." Ichigo turned his head back, staring out into the grassy fields. Aizen took a seat next to him.

"Why thank you."

The two sat in complete silence, both just enjoying the fabricated view.

"Wasn't I sleeping elsewhere?"

"You were. A rather interesting spot, might I add."

Ichigo smirked. He placed a hand on his side, feeling for the wound.

"It's not hurting…"

"It healed on it's own." Aizen raised an eyebrow. Ichigo just responded with an all-knowing stare.

It was at that moment that Ichigo realized it. Most of his wounds were healed, if not all. He put a hand to gently touch the skin around both his eyes. No swelling. The shiner was gone, as well the several cuts and bruises that were on his arms. Judging by the lack of aching, he guessed the wounds under his clothing were mostly healed as well. Ichigo smiled, thanking his Hollow for it's quick work.

"The war situation…what is it?" Ichigo mumbled, regretting the question immediately. Too soon. Too soon to be asking questions like that.

"It's very lax here in Lac Noches, isn't it?" Aizen smiled, his eyes darting to Ichigo, then back out to the field. Ichigo felt breathless as the realization dawned on him.

Scrambling to his feet, Ichigo bent over, clapping a hand over his mouth, the other clutching his stomach. Running off into the opposite direction, Aizen allowed the illusion to drop, letting Ichigo leave the now white room. Ichigo probably wouldn't get far, and the retching sounds that followed minutes later put a smile on Aizen's face.

* * *

Ichigo was a little shocked when the field suddenly faded into white, but kept his attention on running. Turning down random hallways, Ichigo skidded to a stop, breathing heavily.

_Damn. Damn. They lost. How could they fucking lose?!_ Ichigo gritted his teeth, glaring at the floor. It was a stupid thought; That they would win. He stupidly thought he had only been here for a month or so, forgetting to take into account just how many times Aizen had wiped his mind. He was stupid to think that just perhaps, his hot-headed friends would not impulsively try to rescue him and instead stick to tactics. Ichigo scoffed. Even tactics probably didn't work on Aizen. How many of his old friends were still alive now? Would Aizen even leave any alive? Perhaps he would, and do the same he's done to him?

The anger boiled up in his stomach, and Ichigo felt it and whatever was left of his breakfast crawling up his throat and painting the floor.

___Relax, relax._Ichigo panted heavily, one hand braced against a wall, the other tightly clenching his knee. ___You'll get your revenge._

Aizen decided to check up on his little prisoner; after all, he didn't want to find him sleeping in another little cranny of Las Noches that he only vaguely knew existed.

It wasn't too hard to find Ichigo. All he had to do is follow the sounds of vomiting, and after those noises died out, Ichigo's heavy breathing echoing replaced it.

Watching Ichigo crouched down the ground was easily labeled as pathetic. Aizen's interest peaked when he noticed a few more details. Ichigo's back was tensed up, and his breathing sounded more like he was fuming rather then being sick. He was angry. At Aizen.

He smirked and reached a hand down to Ichigo's back, rubbing the smaller man's back soothing. Ichigo sighed quietly, and his muscles eased.

"Seems like you've gotten rid of everything in your stomach."

"Along with things I didn't even know that I ate." Ichigo let out a shaky laugh. He stood up slowly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

Ichigo shifted his weight from foot to foot, not sure where the sudden silence came from. He turned away from Aizen and looked behind him.

"Ah…Is that my room down there?"

"It is."

The silence returned.

"I…Suppose you don't mind if I go rest for a little?"

"Not at all. I'll have someone bring food to you in a little bit."

Ichigo took a step forward in the direction of his room. Taking a deep breath, he turned back around, giving a weak smile.

"Thank you for telling me the truth."

Aizen raised an eyebrow, amused.

"About the war, I mean. You could of lied to me. Kept me living in another fantasy."

"You would of learned eventually."

"You still told me." Ichigo smiled sweetly and Aizen was just a little taken aback. He couldn't recall a moment where the younger man looked like that. The lord of Hueco Mundo was left speechless as Ichigo walked off to his room, feeling rather pleased with himself.

___Anything. I'll say and do anything for my revenge._


	6. Plotting

It was a slow, disturbing process. It happened day by day, at such a minute rate that no one really noticed the change.

First, Ichigo started spending more time with Aizen. The two would be seen walking and talking together, having tea and just generally being in each other's company. Then Ichigo's wounds lessened. He only walked with a limp once in a while and the bruises and cuts that used to be displayed on his arms and face were being scarce as well.

And according to Ichimaru, the sounds coming out of Aizen's room were changing as well. Instead of the usual screams of pain and sounds of sharp instruments cutting skin, they were being replaced with moans and the creakings of the bed.

Needless to say, it scared the **shit **out of the Arrancar.

They were rather confused. Aizen regarded the orange haired man with smiles and a gentle voice. The Arrancar weren't sure if the man was just using his usual fake politeness or he was genuinely treating Ichigo kindly.

"I bet on Lord Aizen just finally ripping him apart." Nnoitra snorted.

"Bitch please, no way he'll let the Shinigami get off that easily." Grimmjow drawled, picking his teeth with the nail of his finger.

"I bet neither…" A lowly Arrancar piped in. Grimmjow and Nnoitra didn't even register the Arrancar's existence.

* * *

Ichigo had enjoyed the last couple of weeks. The beatings were less severe and the rape somehow managed to turn into sex. Ichigo was still trying to figure out the psychological ramifications of that. But he gave up somewhere between 'memory wiping' and 'Stockholm disorder'. It's not like it mattered now.

"Going pretty well.." He hummed to himself, walking around aimlessly. He swore he had the place memorized last week but it appeared that he managed to get himself lost anyway.

He continued to walk down the winding hallway, a little disturbed over the sudden lack of doors. The hairs on Ichigo's neck began to stand up, and the Shinigami wondered what was the cause of this heavy paranoia.

Ichigo stopped walking.

Then started walking again.

Then stopped.

___Tap._

_Someone's behind me_. Ichigo gulped. Someone had been walking behind him, hiding the sounds of their steps with the sound of Ichigo's. But who? Who was it that would sneak up behind him? Who was it that could sneak up behind?

Then Ichigo felt a sudden heavy weight on his shoulders, and a face in front of him. An upside down face. A goofy looking Arrancar was staring at him curiously.

"Holy fucking shit!" Ichigo fell back and onto the ground. The Arrancar jumped off of his shoulders just in time and landed gracefully on the floor.

The Arrancar remained quiet, staring at Ichigo with that same curious look. Ichigo didn't dare move.

Stepping out from a door that Ichigo was sure wasn't there before was someone that took Ichigo a moment to remember. ___Tousen. Right, the blind guy._

"Wonderweiss. Come here." Tousen held his hand out to the small Arrancar, who immediately responded, startling Ichigo.

Wonderweiss hide behind Tousen's legs, watching Ichigo from behind the man. Tousen looked down at Wonderweiss, then back to Ichigo, as if he just realized the orange-haired man was there.

Tousen said nothing to Ichigo, but his mouth made a hard line and his brow furrowed. Ichigo thought the man looked like he was giving Ichigo pity or disgust. He wasn't sure which one.

Ichigo slowly stood up, dusting off his pants.

"H-Hello." He broke the silence. Tousen flinched.

The blind man stepped forward, much to Wonderweiss's protests, which were nothing more than little mewling sounds. Tousen stopped a foot away from Ichigo. If it weren't for those glasses, Ichigo was absolutely sure the man would be glaring at him.

"What…are you doing?" The question came from the blind man.

Ichigo raised an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I don't-"

"I can see it."

Ichigo's eyebrow didn't move.

"See…with those eyes?"

Tousen scowled.

"I don't know what you think what I'm doing. But it doesn't really matter anyway." Ichigo responded with his normal scowl, his pose taking on a more casual and relaxed feel.

"What?""It doesn't look like you want to stop me. The only one without eyes is the one who looks upon me with pity. That's what's stopping you…" Ichigo drawled his words, pointing to Tousen. "…from stopping me." The same hand pointed at Tousen now pointed towards himself.

Tousen stood in the hallway long after Ichigo had wandered off. The blind man wondered how much damage could the Shinigami pose toward their lord.


	7. Forward

A/N: Teensy tiny continuity error that had to be fixed here.

* * *

"Is that so?"

"Lord Aizen, he is a danger."

"I appreciate your concern, Tousen. I already keep a close watch on him."

Tousen was ready to disagree when Aizen raised a hand, stopping his arguments.

"You trust me, do you not, Tousen?"

Of course, Lord Aizen." Tousen didn't miss a beat.

"Then don't worry yourself over needless things."

"I understand. But Kurosaki…he is famous for his unpredictability."

Aizen chuckled, making Tousen wary of his words. He didn't say something stupid, did he?

"His actions are horribly predictable, Tousen. I've been using Ichigo from the very start."

"I…I'm sorry?" Tousen raised an eyebrow. He barely noted Wonderweiss's concerned grip on his hakama.

"Why else do you think I allowed him and his friends run around rampant in Soul Society?" Aizen leaned back in his throne. "Thanks to them and their antics, I was able to fake my death, kill the council, and have my fun with the classified documents."

Tousen agreed silently. It was true. Without the distraction that Kurosaki and his friends caused, Lord Aizen's plan would have been three times harder to accomplish.

"But this certainly is an interesting change." Aizen's voice held an amused tone.

"I don't understand." Tousen felt Aizen shunpo down from his throne to stand next to the blind man. Wonderweiss let out a surprised coo and watched the Arrancar lord with his usual childlike curiosity.

"Before you were so empathetic to Ichigo," Tousen didn't miss the first-name basis familiarity. "and now you see him as poison. It's interesting really. What happened to make you feel that way, Tousen?"

Tousen scowled in a way that befitted Ichigo. He really didn't have much to go on with his accusations. But that wasn't the cause of his frustration. He knew his Lord saw the conversation with him and the Shinigami. He sees everything. What frustrated him was the fact that he doubted Lord Aizen. Like that boy could ever harm Lord Aizen…

"It's alright, Tousen." Aizen chuckled. "No need to get serious. I enjoy your displays of loyalty."

* * *

Spending the day with Orihime was a good choice.

Ichigo awoke from a rare night of beatings. Although Aizen got lenient on Ichigo as the days passed. The man had begun to prefer Ichigo's company and conversation more than having his jaw broken in six places. Not that he didn't mind having both.

Ichimaru had been the one to bring him his food and extended the offer to visit Orihime. Ichigo gladly took it, eager to see his old friend.

When they entered her room, Orihime's reactions were comical. She was torn between the overflowing joy of seeing Ichigo again, the fear she held for Ichimaru and then a certain nervousness settled in; like she was unsure of how to talk to him. Ichigo should have been more concerned with her fear of Ichimaru, but he was too busy laughing.

Ichimaru dismissed himself, saying something like 'not gonna play with Ulqu's property', or something. Ichigo really wished he had paid attention.

As soon as Ichimaru was out of the room, Orihime pounced on Ichigo, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Ichigo! OhImissedyousomuchandwehavesomuchto-" Orihime stopped feeling a tap on her forearm. Ichigo was being suffocated by her breasts. And as much as he loved being suffocated by breasts, he didn't.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Orihime released Ichigo, who let out a big sigh of relief. He managed to catch his breath before Orihime spoke again.

"Ichigo! Your face!"

Ichigo looked up with concern. What was wrong with his face?"Where did you get those cuts and bruises?"

Oh. Those.

"It's not bad." Ichigo resisted the urge to laugh a little. He wondered what would her reaction be if she saw him before Aizen started letting up. This in turn made him wonder if she actually had seen him like that. The previous Ichigo. Or the one before that. By her reaction when she first saw him, Ichigo had to guess no.

"I'll heal you!" Orihime gave no room for argument, beginning the healing even as she spoke.

The two sat down on pillows, silent as Orihime healed him.

"Are you okay? I-Is it hard...here?" After Orihime finished healing him, Ichigo took it as a chance to get as much information as possible. If Orihime had any. Did she know the outcome of the war?

"I'm fine! Ulquiorra is very nice to me." Orihime beamed. Ichigo's mind toyed with the image of Ulquiorra and Orihime holding hands and skipping through a park.

"But…Ichigo, are you okay?" Orihime leaned forward, her voice hushed.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…I heard from Grimmjow that you were captured…But that was so long ago." She nibbled at her lower lip, looking down to the floor. She took a long time before talking again and Ichigo wanted desperately to know what she was thinking about. Orihime, after all, was a terrible liar. "And I was just waiting, day after day to hear about you. But whenever I asked, no one gave me a straight answer."

Ichigo's fingers tapped impatiently on his knee. There was that question. That burning question, just waiting to be answered in his mind.

"Orihime…" Ichigo began. Orihime looked startled at the sudden seriousness. "I know that time is a pretty hard thing to keep track of in this place…But if you had to take a guess, how long would you say it's been since I've been captured?"

Orihime tilted her head, looking up at the ceiling.

"Hmmm…Well, I'd have to say, a year or so."

* * *

Ichigo wasn't sure how he left Orihime's room after that. He just knew that he didn't stay long after hearing that. The feeling of anger burning in his belly was making him sick.

Stumbling down the hallways, Ichigo stopped and took a breath. ___Keep this up and it'll be just like last time. Vomiting all over the goddamn place._

But this was what he wanted, wasn't it? More fuel for his revenge? Or was it just his morbid curiosity that made him ask that. That maybe, for one stupid naïve moment, he would of found out that his torture only went on for maybe a month or two. ___Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

"Ichigo, care to join me for tea?"

A familiar voice pulled him out from his thoughts. From behind him, Ichigo could feel the stare of the Arrancar lord.

"Ichigo?"

Aizen stepped forward, putting a hand on his back. Ichigo leaned back into the man, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his forehead.

"Are you sick?"

Ichigo shook his head. "No…Just a dizzy spell, or something."

"I'll take you to the infirmary."

"That's alright. But I do think some Jasmine tea will fix me right up." Ichigo shot him a toothy grin and Aizen responded with a smile.

"Well, that's too bad, I made Earl Grey."

"Ah, no fair!"

Aizen supported Ichigo as the two walked side by side, off to enjoy their daily cup of tea.


	8. Sleeping

Ichigo noticed that Aizen had a bit of a quirk. He hadn't noticed it before seeing as most of the time when he spoke with Aizen, he was focused on the man himself.

An avid lover of tea, Ichigo noticed that Aizen had a tendency to change the tea depending on various factors during the day. As far as Ichigo could tell, after he and Aizen had spent a night together, whether it including a beating or not, the tea served would be green tea. (Ichigo wondered if that meant he was the dessert.)

On days when nothing of notice happened, in other words, Grimmjow didn't start a bloody fight, Aizen would have some sort of China white tea.

Today however was white tea. Ichigo wondered what this tea meant.

"…Wait. I thought you said Earl Grey.""I lied."

The two were sitting in the meeting room, indulging in small talk. Ichigo felt a little silly sitting at the large table with only two people. The room was so spacious, their voices echoed and Ichigo had to restrain the childish urge to mess around the echoes.

"So, how much does she know?" Ichigo looked up from his tea cup, deciding to probe just how accurate Inoue's information was. It was amazing to many of the Arrancars that he had the ability to ask Aizen outright about things like this. Many were afraid to ask Aizen about the weather. Ichigo understood their fear of the man, but wondered why speaking so casually to the man came so naturally.

"Not very much. She does have a habit of noticing when something's different. But…" Aizen raised his tea cup to his lips.

"Hiding little details is what you're good at?" Ichigo finished his sentence. Aizen smirked from behind the tea cup.

"Among other things.""You're good at punching." Ichigo held a hand to his jaw. "I'm jealous."

"It's a gift."

"No way." Ichigo scoffed, occupying his hands by making a small mountain of sugar cubes. "I bet you were the type of kid where everything came to you naturally. That's your gift."

"Then what's your gift?"

Aizen reached for his tea cup again. Ichigo leaned forward, taking the cup off the table before him. Aizen watched as the younger man stood up, went around the table and pretty much forced his way to sit between Aizen's legs.

Ichigo slumped down, Aizen's chin touched the top of his head. He held up the tea cup.

"It's to be unpredictable."

Aizen leaned forward, drinking from the cup as Ichigo gently tilted it. Pulling the cup away, Ichigo placed it back down on the table, shifting in place and getting comfortable in Aizen's lap.

"You make a good point."

"A damn good point."

Ichigo heard Aizen letting out a small chuckle as the older man wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist. The two sat in silence, the only sounds consisting of the light breathing and Ichigo sipping at Aizen's tea. He assumed the man wouldn't mind.

He must have been staring at the tea cup for hours.

At first he was just going over the events of the past few days in his mind. A habit of sorts, that Ichigo had taken up. He forced himself to be aware of every little detail so that he could gather as much information as possible. Information about the war situation, information about himself, his stay here, anything that Ichigo could possibly get.

Now he was just daydreaming.

Snapping out of his daydream, Ichigo scowled, an ache growing in his back. This position had somehow gotten uncomfortable.

Ichigo was ready to get up, but noticed the sudden heavy weight. Tilting his head in an awkward way, Ichigo's body suddenly tensed up, his whole body fighting to prevent the urge to start laughing.

He was asleep.

___He's fucking asleep!_

Aizen, the feared lord of the Arrancars, was sleeping. Sleeping like a baby, holding onto Ichigo like he was his blanket or his favorite stuffed animal.

Ichigo smirked. He could tolerate the back ache for a bit longer.


	9. Concern

A/N: And here it is! Seven years late. Please bare with me as I try to bring this story to an end.

* * *

Ichigo was wandering again. He had gotten up in the morning, stretched out the kinks from last night, and inspected himself in the mirror. It started to become a daily thing for him, checking his body for new wounds and healing bruises and scars. His body a map of events his mind had forgotten.

_Locked away._

Twisting and turning in the mirror, his fingers brushed against the small of his back as they trailed over his hip bone. The skin was rough to the touch. He contorted himself , trying to catch a glimpse. It was hard to make out in the light, the shape of the scars on his back. Squinting his eyes and slowly tracing trembling fingertips of the scars, he created the image.

"...A...I..."

His fingers froze. Without another thought, he grabbed his clothes from the floor and slipped them back on. Ichigo left his room and calmed his racing mind through the endless white of Las Noches.

He felt his Hollow and Zangestu lingered in the back of his mind, worrying, likely watching the skies for signs of rain. The box his Hollow held, tightly locked and securely kept, must have shook dangerously in his hands. Ichigo held back the storm.

_Not now, not now, not now, NOT NOW_

"Uuoo?"

Ichigo froze. Gripping the pant leg of his hakama was the timid Wonderweiss. The boyish Arrancar tilted his head and blinked, his small hang still furled in the fabric. The Arrancar unnerved Ichigo, usually, but today, his childishness was more noticeable, more endearing. Ichigo crouched down slowly, eye to eye with Wonderweiss.

Now that he was down here, he really had no idea what to say. Luckily, Wonderweiss solved that problem for him and scurried down the hallway, furiously pointing. Ichigo looked behind him cautiously before following.

Wonderweiss led him to the surveillance room. The same place where he often found Tousen and Wonderweiss holed up in, usually to avoid any contact with Ichimaru. Tousen was absent now, leaving Ichigo alone with the Arrancar. The darkened room was illuminated by the screens, no visible wires anywhere to be seen.

The screens displayed various scenes of Las Noches and Hueco Mundo. Surprisingly mundane images for such a dangerous place.

Wonderweiss hopped onto the only chair in the room, tapping on the featureless control panel in from of him in a seemingly mindless manner. The images on the screen changed. It was him. Lying in a room, bleeding.

Ichigo could barely recognize himself. He couldn't recall when that had actually happened, he couldn't even recognize the bare room.

As Aizen stepped into view, Wonderweiss pointed again at him and vocalized his usual sounds. Ichigo furrowed his brow, trying his best to understand. On the screen, Aizen seemed to be speaking briefly with the Ichigo on screen. After a few moments, out of thin air, Aizen unsheated Kyouka Suigetsu and the screen went black. Wonderweiss was quiet, staring at Ichigo expectantly.

"I...I don't understand," Ichigo fidgeted under the intense stare. Wonderweiss slipped out of the chair and grasped his hakama with both hands. "I'm...I'm okay, alright?"

Wonderweiss didn't look convinced.

Ichigo swallowed. "This time...It's not going to be like that this time. I promise."

Satisfaction shined in Wonderweiss's eyes. He released Ichigo and pattered out of the room without another sound.

Alone, Ichigo stared up at the monitors. Making himself comfortable in the chair, Ichigo reached for the control panel, fingers moving with a familiarity he knew his mind didn't have, and the images of a long past Ichigo appeared on the screens.


	10. Denial

A/N: The beginning of the end? Probably.

* * *

Ichigo closed his eyes tight, willing away the honeyed words slipping into his ears, seeping into his mind. They'd been at this for what felt like hours now. Aizen never seemed capable of normal sex—_I can have normal sex with this man?—_but sometimes he could muster up some semblance of normalcy, giving Ichigo a chance to enjoy the ride, regardless of the psychological complications.

Today was not one of those days.

Aizen had strolled into his room without a single word and bent him over the bed, pressing his face into the covers as he roughly tugged off the other's clothing. Ichigo tried to help him along the way, if only to try and maneuver into a more comfortable position for his neck. The older man pressed into him without a sound and, suddenly, Ichigo was very glad he had a mouthful of sheets. The man inside of him burned and ached, making him hyper-aware of every little kink and prickle of pain in his body.

He grunted when he began to move, sliding in and out with a deliberate slowness.

This was still normal, all things considered. It was when Ichigo's vision of the room began to slip that things took a turn for the bizarre. He thought at first it was a dizzy spell brought on by his physical stress. When Aizen breathed heavily, an aborted chuckle, Ichigo realized otherwise.

Aizen's thickness inside felt even more uncomfortable, the aching pressing up into his lungs. There had to be something else in him—his fingers? But they were there, firmly pressed into the bones of his hips.

"You haven't asked about them, Ichigo," his voice was in his ear, impossibly close. Ichigo looked over his shoulder, vision hazed, at Aizen. He thought he could make out that trademark smirk, but the man was nowhere near his ear.

"I-"

"Don't you want to know about them? Surely, you're curious." A thrust here, sharp and painful, but he didn't feel Aizen move within him. "Would you like me to tell you about them?"

Ichigo shook his head in the sheets.

"Are you going to live in denial?"

Ichigo laughed, short and wheezy. "I-I'm in denial? You're the one who can't get enough of me and act like I'm under your c-control. Face it, Sousuke, you're head over heels."

Aizen leaned over, his clothed chest pressed against Ichigo's naked back. His breath was back in his ear, aroused and amused.

"I won't argue that, Ichigo." He pressed a kiss to the back of his ear.

Ichigo swallowed down the bile.


	11. Anger

A/N: So, let's see here...that leaves 3 more to go? Yeah, I think it'll be three more chapters. Thank you for your patience! I had a few exams and then spring break, so I took the time to do what amounted to basically nothing.

* * *

He spent the morning with Orihime. It was more than a pleasant change from the attentions of Aizen or the unusually intense stares of Ichimaru. Not that he managed to escape the staring here, Ulquiorra, the ever-present silent sentinel, stood in the corner of Orihime's room, green eyes trained on the two of them.

Somehow, that, too, was pleasant. Bright green eyes and red hair defiantly existing against the never-ending white backdrop of Las Noches.

The small talk had ended. The silence was comfortable, for Ichigo, but he could see Orihime squirm in her seat.

"You...you haven't asked about them since," she said, finally, nervously.

Ichigo hoped he could pretend that he didn't hear her. Them. His friends. Their friends.

"You need to know."

"I..." his word died in his throat. _I don't want to, not yet, I can't handle it—Orihime, not yet, please please please_

"I can't do this anymore!" He thought it came from him. He blinked through the sudden haze of unshed tears, anger buzzing in the back of his head. Orihime's hands were tightly clenched, eyes shimmering with tears.

"I can't keep doing this, I-Ichigo. I don't want to. I don't want to keep seeing you like this. It hurts."

He stood up, a swift motion, knocking his chair back on the floor. Orihime flinched. Ichigo rushed out of the room, blood rushing through his ears. He heard Orihime's muffled voice call for him as he aimlessly stomped through the halls, uncaring and unseeing of any obstacles.

_It hurts for her? How do you think I feel? I hate this! I'm the one who can't keep doing this! Why, why? Why me? _

His head throbbed. Abruptly, he stopped, crouching down, his hands threaded through orange spikes. The anger in his veins scared him; it was a force that shook his entire body, sprouting seeds of fear that blossomed into terror. Awash in the intensity of it, he felt his breath quicken, unable to figure out how to calm himself.

Aizen was there, looming over him.

Aizen.

_**Focus.**_

A simple goal; that was always enough for Ichigo. With a deep, shaky, breath, Ichigo raised a hand up to the man.

"S-sousuke...hold me."


End file.
